


There Comes a Time

by septembergem



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Dirty Talk Kink, Dom Steve, It's basically just porn, Kinks, M/M, Oops, Sassy Natasha, Shameless Smut, dom kink, hair-pulling is also a kink, tony's kinks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-30
Updated: 2015-07-30
Packaged: 2018-04-12 01:11:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,044
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4459547
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/septembergem/pseuds/septembergem
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Listen, Steve Rogers and Tony Stark are starting to annoy the rest of the team because really, it's plain as day how badly they want to leave hickies on each other. Why not just do it already, for God's sake... </p><p> </p><p>it's just smut</p>
            </blockquote>





	There Comes a Time

**Author's Note:**

> no, really, it's just smut

Sunday afternoon - known for its complete lack of excitement and total laziness. This Sunday afternoon followed in the footsteps of all those before it - the Avengers all sat completely still, in their own worlds, enjoying the quiet day. The floor to ceiling windows of Avengers Tower cast warm sunlight into the living area, welcome in the cool building. Clint and Natasha, having taken up half of each others chairs as usual, were having a small war in Candy Crush, and were better to be left alone. Bruce just sat - that's all, perfectly silent. I'm sure there was a bird or something he was looking at out the window. Thor was eating (what else was new) getting crumbs, no doubt, on the freshly vacuumed carpet. He'd be ridiculed later. And then there was Tony and Steve. Ah, how glorious sexual tension is. 

For as long as the two had known each other, their relationship was still as elusive as always. They hated each other - I mean, deep, passionate hatred that would probably lead to, like, at _least_ three broken mugs. Maybe even a smashed plate, on a bad day. But then their coordination on missions and unspoken understanding was misleading. And as time only increased, their relationship extending, their glances across the room were longer and their 'secretive' stares were more and more noticeable. 

Tony couldn't deny that Cap was a hell of a specimen. I mean, he'd seen a lot of people naked, whether it was during sex or not, and Cap was certainly on his bucket list. Even if it was just hate sex - that's always fun once in a while, right? Maybe if he just pissed him off a little more each day, he'd snap and shove him against a wall and - _don't go too far down that path, or you'll have a raging hard on._

And Steve; well, Steve did hate Tony Stark. He hated his arrogance, and his sarcasm, and his facial hair that was so nicely groomed, and his occasional stares at his groin that he thought were sneaky, but really weren't. And _God_ he didn't want to have sex with anyone more. I mean, he really didn't know how much longer he could keep this 'innocent' thing going. The thoughts that went through his head - _oh Jesus._

So as the two sat in their respective chairs on opposite ends of the living space, each pretending to busy them self, their eye contact would get longer with fewer breaks in between. And their positions would shift, legs crossing, uncrossing. And the things each of them were imagining... seriously, get a priest on the phone, this is bad. 

Clint smacked a hand onto the arm of his chair, swearing under his breath. Natasha smirked, not looking up from her phone. 

"Will you two stop staring at each other and go have it already? You're making me uncomfortable with all your sexual tension and Lord knows you'd have been fucking tonight anyway." 

Heads nodded in agreement, including Bruce and Clint. Thor just took another bite and grinned. Natasha still did not lift her head from her phone. 

The look on Tony's face would have sold for _so_ much on eBay, I mean _wow_. It was good. His entire neck was flushed red, mouth open just a little in an 'O'. His eyes were blown wide, hands clutching his tech tightly. And he looked over at Cap - only to find the super soldier had gotten out of his chair and was quickly crossing the room. He took Tony's arm in his hand and yanked him from the chair, nodding to Nat on their way out. 

The two made their way, Steve pulling Tony behind him, to the elevator and as soon at the door closed, Tony started to do what he did best; talk. 

"Ok, so I mean I know you're sort of unexperienced-"

Steve cut him off by pushing his shoulders against the elevator wall. He held his face close to Tony's but not close enough to touch. Only close enough for him to feel his breath and watch his eyes rake over every feature on his face. 

"I swear to God, if I'm not fucking you in the next five minutes, there will be consequences."

The elevator chimed, and he latched onto Stark's wrist again to drag him to the bedroom. 

Now, Tony didn't know he had a kink for being spoken dirty to, or being told what to do by another human being. Both things were a surprise, but not unwelcome as his jeans increasingly grew tighter with each step, his mind filing through every dirty fantasy he had had about the Captain. 

Door open, lights on, and he's against the wall. Tony Stark is up against a wall with Steve fucking Rogers holding him down. Their first kiss is just gentle enough to be one last question to make sure this is what they both want. And then all morality is thrown into the wind. It's rough, their kisses hungry, hands roaming and needy and it's like neither of them have had human contact in years. They're so desperate and Tony swears the temperature is rising in the room. Steve stops, his mouth moving to whisper in Tony's ear. 

"Bed. Now."

Tony takes Steve's words as gospel from this point on. 

They both collapse onto the bed, Steve kneeling above him, his hands each next to Tony's head, and kissing again, open-mouthed on his neck, his collarbone, then back to his mouth. There's nips and the scraping of teeth on skin and gasps are drawn from the opposite's lungs. They're pulling the air from each other, taking them completely. 

Shirts come off, and sucking, nipping, bruising of fingers digging into ribs. It's animalistic, and Tony loves it, loves the way Cap scrapes his nails down his sides, sending electric shivers down his spine. He reaches Tony's waistline and stops, arching his back and looking up at Tony in a predatory stare, eyes blown wide with lust. He crawls back up his chest slowly, deliberately, kissing Tony once on his bleeding lips before whispering, "Do you want to suck my cock? Want to be the slut you are? I bet you've dreamed of this, jerked off to me in the darkness of your room. Suck me dry, Stark."

And Tony has never moved so quickly. He is on top of Steve in an instant, carelessly ripping his shirt over his head, rubbing his hands along his chest, that marvelous chest, muscles taught and nipples perked. _God_ , he's beautiful, and Tony doesn't feel the need to say it. Instead, his sits on his heels and slips his fingers under the waistband of Steve's sweatpants and he pulls them down, the fabric getting stuck over the tent presented there. Pants gone, underwear ripped away until all of Steve is bared stiff against his abdomen. Tony thinks he's drooling. 

He licks a long stripe on the underside of his cock and revels in the noise escaping Steve's mouth. He gives little kitten licks to the head, takes the precome into his mouth and hums, lips closed against the twitching member. 

Steve's hand laces through Tony's hair and tugs, just enough to be gorgeously uncomfortable (ah, another new kink - hair pulling) and he meets the Captain's eyes, which are lidded, his mouth open, gasping. 

"Enough teasing, Stark." he says simply, so Tony eagerly takes his length down as far as he can go, and then some, the head bobbing at the back of his throat and Cap throws his head back and moans loud and long. Tony hollows his cheeks, swirls his tongue, just holding him there at full capacity. He starts to gag, but pushes it away, instead sucking all the way up to the top again before slamming back down. Steve is writhing underneath him and the satisfaction of hearing all his noises is sent straight to the pain in his jeans. He ruts against the sheets, seeking friction, gaining nothing beneficial. He he hums against Steve's dick, looking up at him through parting hair. 

The temperature is still rising, Tony's hair pulled so nicely, his hand seeking purchase on Steve's sides, leaving bruises to match his own. And Steve is falling, falling, ecstasy at its finest when he pulls Tony's head up suddenly, making his mouth release his cock with a loud pop. Tony catches his breath in long gulps matching Steve's own struggle to regain air.

"Don't let me - come - without being able to - fuck you - first." he says between breaths. Tony starts to move and whines, the tent painful and so unbearably tight now. Steve sits up and unzips the jeans. He smirks at Tony. 

"I'll take care of you, Stark." Tony's erection springs from its prison and Steve gives it a few long, languid strokes. Tony melts into his warm, firm hands. But it's quickly gone, and Tony is on his back again. There's kisses, lips that were so chapped and raw given new blemishes, hickies redone. Then Steve reaches over to his bedside drawer and grabs the two most glorious things in the world. 

His fingers are slick with lube, and the substance is cold, but not unpleasantly so on Tony's opening. And the surge of pleasure is doubled, tripled, quadrupled by each added extremity. And it's sensory overload, complete bliss one moment, and complete emptiness the next. He opens his eyes to watch Steve methodically covering his dick in lube, his hand moving in strokes. Tony is captivated. 

Steve leans down, his hands returning to their position next to Tony's head, and he positions himself just as Tony's entrance. The head presses expectantly against the complete mess underneath him, and he takes the opportunity to do two things he knows will just increase the moans to come. One, he weaves a hand into Tony's hair and tugs, feeling the tangled locks twist in his fingers even more. And two, he leans down to whisper in his ear.

"You don't come until I let you." he says simply, before pushing in completely. 

And the feeling is so long overdue, so expected, so built up, that the pure blinding pleasure almost sends both men over the edge immediately. And Steve bottoms out and stays there, letting Tony adjust (because hey, he's not a complete horror) and also, giving himself time to process everything around him. Then he loses all control. 

Steve's pounding into Tony like they're going to die tomorrow, like he'll never have sex again, and it's purely raw and Tony's is screaming his name, yelling and moaning and making damn sure that everyone downstairs knows who he belongs to. Again and again, his name. Steve's name, on his lips, on his skin, burned into his heart somewhere, deep down. And his hand has found its way to his own dick and it pumping hard, twisting, pulling, anything -

"Don't come yet, Stark." Steve says, and his voice is so unsteady and wobbly and nothing like it was just a second ago - or was that hours ago? Time was irrelevant and falling apart, and Steve was losing himself. But no - Tony can't come yet. Not yet. Not yet. 

"S-Steve-"

"No..."

Both their eyes are shut, hands twisting in sheets and hair and there's groaning and yelling and Steve pulls at Tony's hair, hard. 

"Look at me." he  says, voice broken. Tony opens his eyes. 

"Come for me."

Tony comes, his vision getting completely blocked out by white, and stars, and there's come on his chest and his hand, and he's dead, he's sure of it. But then everything comes back to focus and Steve is there, his eyes unwavering until he, too, breaks. He bottoms out and comes, hard, screaming Tony's name. Then it's just the heavy breathing, the heavy recovery. Steve's arms give out and he collapses next to Tony. 

They don't say anything, not for a while, not for a long while, but Tony eventually sits up, and then stands up, wobbly and uncertain, but standing. And he retreats to the bathroom and grabs and rag. And he cleans both of them up, sitting on the bed, just looking at Steve, watching his breathing. 

"You're incredible." Steve states, meeting Tony's eyes. Tony smirks. 

"I know."


End file.
